


Let the Cat Out of the Bag

by Bellovebug



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Danny has a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellovebug/pseuds/Bellovebug
Summary: Danny has a secret, and it's not what you expect.(Or, Danny finds a cat. Jazz is allergic. Tucker is a dumbass. Sam is salty. Dash is... Not as awful as he could have been.)





	Let the Cat Out of the Bag

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote all of this in the middle of class so it's probably really bad. I've never written anything with less of a plot. But PhannieMay is about fun and I had a lot of fun doing this! (This is for day 2 of Phanniemay, by the prompt "secrets".)

_ Shit _ .

Danny grimaced, staring down at the concrete as his shoes hit the ground.  _ An entire project. How am I going to get that done in a single day? _ He had completely forgotten about the History project due the next day due to a breakout from the ghost zone.

He put his hands on his head, feeling the headache coming from a mile away, and groaned.

He stopped to get his headphones out of his bag- gotta smother all that environmental input, right?- when he heard a noise coming from a nearby alley.

He stopped cold, listening, hand itching to snatch the Fenton thermos from his bag. Rustling and what sounded like the rattling of a can falling resounded out of the alleyway, and he snuck as quietly as he could to peer around the corner.

At first sight, there was nothing. Just a couple trash bags, and the back entrance to a building which looked like it hadn't been opened in a couple decades. Movement caught his eye, however, and something was definitely moving behind one of those trash bags.

He followed his instincts, removing his Fenton thermos from his bag and stalking up to the oversized bag. He resisted the urge to cough from the rancid smell in the alleyway as he reached the trashbag.

He reached a hand towards it cautiously, ready to leap back at any moment and uncap the thermos.

He grabbed the bag roughly, flinging it to the side (with some struggle- Danny wasn't  _ that  _ strong). And to his surprise, there was no ghost lurking, no rabid coyote rummaging for food. No, no, instead, tangled in a torn up towel, was a tiny black kitten.

“Oh,” he sighed in relief. He screwed the cap on the thermos and tossed it back in his bag. He looked down at the little guy, fur matted with some unknown substance and greasy in the few places it was clear. It was clear the kitten was homeless, if not for the fur than for the way its ribs were clearly visible even under all of its fur.

He couldn't lie, it tugged on his heartstrings. The kitten let out a pitiful mew, twisting to release its paw from where it was stuck in the towel, and Danny practically melted. He reached out to untangle it, and it jolted, flinching away from his hand and thrashing to get away.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured quietly, but the kitten was not calmed. “It's okay. It's okay.” He didn't want to get caught by the kitten's tiny claws- as innocent as it looked, he knew they could carry diseases- so he wrapped the sleeve of his sweatshirt around his hands before reaching again. The kitten couldn't do much, being all wrapped up, but hell if it didn't try. Danny freed one paw from the strings, and the kitten slipped out of his hands, trying to run away. However, one paw was still snagged, and it dragged the towel behind it.

Danny quickly caught it again- he had no doubt that had the towel not been there the kitten would be long gone by now- and freed his last foot. The kitten let out a high pitched growl and sunk it's little teeth into his hand. His sweatshirt muffled all but the slight pressure and the kitten's ears were flattened down against its head, clearly afraid.

Realizing he wouldn't be able to do anything productive, he released the kitten, and it raced into the shadows. He sighed, and went to retrieve his backpack, slipping the Fenton thermos inside and shouldering it on.

He guessed he actually had to deal with that project now, huh?

\-----

It was a minor ghost. It really shouldn't have been such a huge problem- it usually didn't take him longer than a few minutes to take down a ghost such as this.

But they had been dancing around each other for at  _ least  _ half an hour already, and dead or undead, Danny was tiring.

He shot several ghost rays at the ghost, all but one of which it dodged with unnatural agility, the other barely clipping its side. It let out an unearthly shriek which didn't do anything but make his ears ring.

“Hey, use your inside voice!”

Okay, he would admit it. It wasn't his best quip. But he was tired, alright? Cut him some slack. He had gotten a grand total of one hour of sleep that night, working on Lancer's essay til 3 while insomnia took over the rest. And it was the night  _ after  _ that, and it was already almost 2 am, and he just really wanted to get the hell out of there and get in his bed.

That is, until he heard a small, squeaky mew.

He looked around frantically, trying to scan the alleyway while also dodging the ghost's attack. At first he couldn't find anything, until he saw a tiny black face peeking out from between a trash can lid and the brick wall.

Oh,  _ hell  _ no.

He couldn't even be responsible for his own life- sometimes lack thereof. How was he supposed to think about protecting this kitten along with himself?

_ Well _ , he thought.  _ I can't just stop fighting, so…. _

The ghost took advantage of his apparent distraction, and attacked him in a way Danny had never seen before.

Its tail extended, but thinned, and thwipped out towards him like a whip.

Maybe he shouldn't have made that comparison, because as fast as he tried to move out of the way, it unfurled in a fraction of a second, cutting through the air so quick Danny could barely see it.

But  _ damn  _ did he feel it when it hit his abdomen, letting out a harsh crack.

Danny was a tough guy- he could admit it. He  _ screamed _ .

_ Ow ow ow ow _ -

Before he could recover, it lashed again, this time the strike hitting his shoulder and wrapping around to his back.

He didn't need to look to know the wound was awful. It was  _ freezing _ , and he would bet that the fabric was torn and that ectoplasm was seeping out.

He couldn't take this much longer.

He raised his hand, shooting as many ghost rays as he possibly could. There were so many bullets that the ghost couldn't dodge all of them.

They continued like that, dodging and shooting and, in Danny's case, screaming occasionally.

The pain in his abdomen worsened the longer he fought- it buzzed, but it didn't feel asleep. It felt like the wound was sinking deeper and deeper, corrupting his organs and crumbling his bones.

He was almost worried that it was true- you can never really tell with ecto attacks.

The ghost caught his face, bruising his cheek and leaving him dizzy.

And it had no mercy.

_ Crack. _

Pain.

_ Crack. _

Pain.

_ Crack. _

Pain.

He stopped screaming on the second blow, only having enough energy to let out a broken whimper.

_ I have to get closer _ , he thought.

And it took him a while, but he did.

He uncapped the Fenton thermos, and the ghost began to blur into the container. But not before it manage to fire off one last bullet.

The ghost swirled into the depths of the thermos, and he shoved the cap on as quick as he could. And it was a good thing, too, because he most surely would have dropped it.

The blast met its mark, slamming into his chest.

He fell.

It felt like 3 years, he was falling, but it was undoubtedly no longer than 3 seconds before he hit the ground.

It knocked the air out of him, and he couldn't breathe. His ears rang, but it sounded as if he were underwater, sounds such as his thermos hitting the ground muffled and far away. His vision was spotted with splotches of black. He felt like radio static.

He choked. His chest seized and he couldn't  _ breathe. _

_ Breathe. Breathe. Breathe breathe breathe _

He felt his own blood- ectoplasm- no, that was warm, it was blood. Had he turned back? He couldn't. Remember. Remember.

He coughed, and he breathed.

He sucked in air like a ravenous man who hadn't eaten for weeks, heaving. He coughed again, and  _ fuck,  _ that was a bad idea. With every breath his chest ached  _ bad. _

He paused, laying there. He would have to get up eventually. He had a French test the next day- it was his only A. French test. French test.

Get up.

_ Come on,  _ he thought.  _ I need to get up. _

But his body didn't seem to agree. He leaned upwards, and his chest released a sharp pang of pain.

Okay, sure. Maybe getting up wasn't such a good idea after all.

He lay there in the abandoned alleyway. He shut his eyes, and he probably would have fallen asleep if it hadn't been for a cold something touching his hand.

He yelped, jerking his hand away and sitting up far too fast. It made his head spin and  _ fuck  _ his entire chest felt like it had been run over by a truck.

He looked around for his assailant, and he sighed in relief. It was the kitten.

He reached a hand towards it, and it ducked, it's tail fluffing up like a bottle brush.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered lazily, too tired to do much else.

He closed his eyes, but the kitten stepped on him again. He opened his eyes, and the kitten's green eyes bored into his own. He didn't move, and it slowly and cautiously creeped up onto his stomach. He winced when it stepped on one of the cuts from the whip, but he left it alone, not wanting to scare it away. He coughed, however, and it jumped, leaping off his stomach. He sighed and began to get up.

He heaved himself onto his feet, and sure enough, he was in his human form. And his clothes were ripped. And, worse, stained with crimson. He didn't even know how much he bled- hopefully not so much that he'd have to ask Jazz to help him. She was a worrier, and it rubbed off on Danny, making him anxious.

So he began the walk home.

He stopped maybe halfway there to throw up in a nearby bush. He hoped he didn't have a concussion- that would be  _ really  _ bad.

As soon as he made it to his house, he opted to climb in the window. He doubted his ability to be subtle about shutting the door this late at night, and his parents were light sleepers (“Keeps us on our toes in case of  _ ghouls!”) _ .

He climbed in his window, and he stripped off his ruined shirt. He put it in a plastic bag- he couldn't very well throw it away in the kitchen garbage can, so he planned on throwing his ruined clothing in the outside garbage tomorrow morning.

Before he could do much else, he heard a tiny meow from outside his window.

_ Are you fucking with me right now? _

He opened the window, and sure enough, there on the sidewalk below him was a tiny black blob. “God, fucking shit fuck  _ asshole _ -” he sighed and ran his hands threw his hair. He couldn't leave it out there. He couldn't. His heart ached for the little thing.

He climbed down from his window once more, and he knelt to pick it up. It hissed.

“Make up your mind!” He whisper-yelled.

The kitten eyes him warily, but approached, sniffing.

It seemed to have gotten what it needed, and he reached to pick it up. It's eyes narrowed, but it seemed to accept him.

He picked it up, and he gnawed on his hand lightly, looking up at him.

“Aww,” he cooed. He used his other hand to rub a thumb on it's little forehead, and it leaned into the touch. It seemed like an entirely different cat.

He made quick work of sneaking the cat up to his room. As soon as he made it in his window, the kitten leapt down to the ground, sniffing around it's surroundings.

He closed the window and latched it.

It wasn't until he went to lay down that he remembered that his whole body ached like hellfire.  _ I should probably wrap this,  _ he thought.

He exited his room, shutting the door quietly but quickly to avoid the kitten escaping, and he crept to the bathroom. He retrieved the hefty medkit he and Jazz had bought from the top corner of the bathroom closet and made his way back to his room.

He sat on his bed gingerly and turned on his lamp along with his light. Lifting up his shirt, he gingerly poked at the marks left by the lashes. They were definitely bleeding, but the blood had already started to clot around the wounds. They weren't deep enough to need stitches, but he would definitely have to disinfect them and wrap them.

He started with removing his shirt before whiping away the blood surrounding them with a wet cloth. After, he went in with the disinfecting wipes in the kit for around them.

He and Jazz used to use rubbing alcohol to clean his wounds, but Jazz had switched it all out, talking about how the harsh liquid wasn't good for wounds. So Danny has to use saltwater to wash out the wound- apparently it was better than the alcohol, and it hurt less, which was a win.

He still hissed when he poured it from the bottle. He dabbed it with a napkin.

Then, the sound of claws in fabric could be heard as the kitten grappled its way up his comforter onto his bed. It squeaked quietly, and sniffed around him, as if in concern. Danny smiled weakly, the little furball giving him a some small amount of joy. It curled up against his leg, and he knew the guilt would kill him when he had to move.

After disinfecting all of his wounds he could reach- the one reaching around his back the only one he couldn't get- he sealed them with an excess amount of butterfly stitches. After they were all secured to his satisfaction, he gently wrapped the majority of his torso in a thin layer of gauze. He learned the hard way that having just s little gauze went a long way when it came to comfort.

When the cuts had been treated, he turned his attention to his chest, where a huge, sprawling bruise sprouted from his sternum. It was already dark blue and red, with hints of purple here and there. He poked it gingerly and winced. That was gonna be a bitch to heal.

He sighed down at the little kitten leaning against his leg, not asleep but clearly tired.

“You're gonna need some food, aren't you, baby?” the kitten blinked up at him, yawning.

And that was how Jazz found him sneaking back up the stairs with a bowl of water and a plate loaded with a considerably large amount of salami.

“What are you doing?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Uhmm…” he faltered. “I'm doing a… biology project…”

Jazz fixed him with a calculating stare. “I thought you had biology last year.”

He could have hit himself. “I did!” He coughed once, twice, almost spilling the water. “I meant- I meant chemistry. I'm doing a chemistry project.”

“At almost three in the morning?” she met his eyes, and he held her stare.  _ Don't break eye contact. She can smell fear. _

“...Yes.”

She squinted suspiciously. He could feel the sweat in his hands.

Finally, relief. “You should really work on staying more up to date with your homework. You're in sophomore year, Danny-”

“Yeah! Yeah, totally, I get it, Jazz-” he began to back up towards his door.

“You really need to kick into gear-”

“You're entirely right. Anyways I'm just gonna-” he bumped into the wall, and he desperately wanted to escape.

“If you want, I could always help you with your homework-”

“Yeah, yeah! That's great Jazz, thank you-”

“Wait, Danny, hold on-”

“Goodnight, Jazz, love you!” He opened the door and slid into his room as fast as he could, shutting it behind him.

He slid his back down the door, sighing in relief. He set the water and the salami down on the floor, looking around for his friend.

At first glance, he couldn't spot it, but upon further searching, Danny spotted a little pink nose peeking out from under his bed.

He moved the water toward the kitten, and it backed up a few steps, fading further into the dark. He picked up a piece of salami and extended his arm-  _ shit, other arm, this one got whipped. _

The kitten sniffed the air began to creep forward. Once it was within arm's reach, he held the salami under its nose, and it began a soft growl. Seeing the warning- probably there because this cat had lived on the streets- he left the salami on the ground and retracted his hand. It eyed him warily, and once it decided he wasn't going to try and take it, it bit the slice and shook her head, and within a matter of maybe 20 seconds, it was gone.

It scarfed down the rest of the salami in a similar fashion. Maybe he shouldn't be giving a cat so much salami, but it wasn't as if they had cat food lying around, and he was trying his best.

Once the kitten realized he had water, it cautiously stepped towards it, never once taking its big green eyes off of him. He tried to hold as still as he could, not wanting to scare it away.

Clearly, it was thirsty, because it drank for a solid three minutes straight. Danny didn't even know if it was breathing.

Satisfied that the kitten was fed and watered and would be okay for the night, he flicked the lights off and crawled under his comforter. He rolled to one side, and immediately rolled to the other when it became evident that his wounds would make it uncomfortable to sleep.

He took a deep breath, and fell asleep, the last thing he heard being a quiet purr from beneath his bed.

\-----

It was a slow day. Like, a  _ really  _ slow day. Lancer's essay had finished yesterday, and they were starting a new unit. The French test was easier than he thought it would be. He had work in his other classes, but they were busy work, and not exactly hard.

He was walking with Sam and Tucker out in the courtyard.

“I really don't know what was up with that ghost. It was  _ super  _ strong for one like that, and I swear I was fighting it for, like, an hour,” he complained.

Tuck sighed in sympathy, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. “A moment of silence for our fallen brother, who also had to write Lancer's essay in under two hours.”

Sam smacked his hand away and Tucker snorted. “Well, you wouldn't have that problem if you just  _ did  _ the  _ work  _ like you're  _ supposed to _ .”

“Shut up, Sam, you're fucking gifted when it comes to essays-” Tucker began.

“No, I just have  _ opinions _ you plain ass-”

Danny didn't get to hear the rest of that sentence, because across the courtyard, he spotted a little black smudge.  _ It can't be _ , he thought. He had made sure to lock his door and close his window before he left. But sure enough, as they walked closer, he definitely recognized the uneven fur and huge green eyes.

Looking around for any teachers, he started forth to nab the little furball. To his surprise, it didn't even hiss, just gnawed gently on his thumb.

“Is that a cat?” He heard Sam say as she and Tucker caught up to him.

“Uh… yeah…” he began. “I found it a couple times on the streets and it followed me home last night.”

“Well, first of all,  _ it  _ is definitely a  _ she _ ,” Sam protested.

“How do you know?” Tucker piped in.

“Is it really a surprise that I enjoy studying animal anatomy?” Sam rolled her eyes. “I'm an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.”

Danny heard Tucker mutter “ _ yeah, we know,”  _ and Sam's resultant squawk of indignation, but was distracted by Dash, who was sauntering up to them with his usual cocky gait.

Danny sighed. What would he want today? Lunch money? (Danny almost laughed at that.) “What do you want, Dash?”

“Is that a cat?” Dash looked at him coldly, but his voice was probably the least mean he'd ever heard it.

“It sure is, Dash,” Tucker began. “Very astute observation of you.”

“Foley, I swear to God, I'll beat your-”

“Okay! Okay, guys, calm down. Yes, Dash, it is a cat. Is that all you wanted?” Sam interjected.

“No,” Dash addressed her. He turned back to Danny, and if Danny didn't know any better, he'd say Dash was looking at the cat affectionately. “What's her name?”

“Uh,” Danny halted. “Uh- her name is, um.” He racked his brain, but before he could come up with something good, he blurted, “Phil. Her name's Phil.”

Dash eyed him incredulously, and Danny wanted to jump off a building.

“Fenton, I don't know if you're aware of this, but did you know that Phil is  _ actually  _ usually a guy's name?” Sarcasm dripped from seemingly every orifice on Dash's face.

“Its- it's short for-” he thought wildly. “-Philadelphia.”

“... _ Why?” _

“Um. My. My uncle lives there,” He blurted lamely.

“But, Danny,” Tucker piped up. “You don't have a-”

“ _ Shut your hoe mouth, Tucker-” _

“That's the dumbest name for a cat I've ever heard,” Dash finally replied. Danny couldn't retaliate, because Dash was right. Philadelphia  _ was  _ a horrible name for a cat. But to Danny's surprise, Dash shuffled a bit, looking almost nervous. “...Can I hold her?”

Danny eyed him, shocked. He'd never heard Dash so docile in his life. He was hesitant, but as much of a dick as Dash was, Danny didn't think he'd hurt an animal. “Uhh… sure.”

Danny held out the kitten-  _ Phil, god he would never live this down- _ and Dash took her gently, cradling her against his chest. Danny half hoped she would go wild and attack Dash, but to his surprise, she started up a little purr. Dash rubbed her little forehead, and she raised her chin into the touch.

Danny made incredulous eye contact with Sam and Tuck, who were about as shocked as he was.

Dash cooed at her, a small smile on his face. (Danny couldn't help the fact that the smile made Dash look… almost….  _ Cute _ . But Danny was absolutely  _ not  _ going to deal with that right now.)

Dash held Phil back out to Danny, and he took her back. “...Thanks,” Dash gritted out. “She's cute.”

Then, he sauntered away, as if anything about that situation was normal.

Danny turned back to Sam and Tucker, who were both recovering from their shellshock. Tucker, however, began to cackle, and Sam rolled her eyes.

“Really?  _ Phil? _ Danny, you really are one dumb bitch-”

\---

He ended up explaining the whole story of Phil's existence to Tucker and Sam on their walk from school that day, leaving out the part about almost dying in that fight against the ghost.

“But you guys  _ can't  _ tell Jazz, or my mom or dad about her,” Danny pleaded.

“Why not?” Tucker asked.

“ _ Because, _ I don't think my parents would let me keep a cat in the house, and then Jazz would lecture me on how  _ it was irresponsible to take in a living creature  _ and  _ i need to take it to a shelter-” _

“Yeah, that's because Jazz is smart, and you should  _ listen to her _ ,” Sam argued. “You really need to take it to a shelter. Actually, I know where a super humane one is, we can go right now-

“No, no, Sam, please!” Danny held Phil, who was curled up in his arms. “Please. I'll take her to one eventually, I just…” he tried to justify not taking her sooner, and he couldn't. “I don't know. I don't know, okay? I wanna keep her around. I like her.”

Sam fixed him with furrowed brows. After several seconds, she sighed. “Fine. But only because you're my best friend and I love you.”

Danny smiled weakly. “Thanks, Sam. Love you too.”

“Wow. Thanks, guys. I'm really feeling the love over here,” Tucker interjected jokingly.

“Love you too, Tucker,” Danny and Sam said in synchrony, overly sweet.

“Aww, really?” Tucker said, clutching a hand on his chest and swooning. “You guys are too sweet.”

\-----

Upon arriving at his house, he soon realized that he would have to walk through the entire thing to get to his room. And he was  _ not  _ going to do that while holding Phil in plain sight.

Checking his window, he found that it was locked.

“I'm sorry, Phil,” he muttered, unzipping his backpack. He shoved everything as deep as he could, and set her inside. He choked back a wave of guilt as she looked up at him before he zipped it closed.

Luckily, he didn't have too much trouble on his way to his room. The only road bump was his mom sitting at the kitchen table, asking him about his day.

As soon as he shut his door, he unzipped his backpack, and she jumped out, fur ruffled. As soon as she got the chance, she scurried away under his bed.

And it was lucky, too, because mere seconds later, Jazz threw open his door unannounced.

_ “Jazz!”  _ He exclaimed, scrambling up from his floor.

“Hey, Danny, do you-” she was interrupted by a sharp sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I just wanted to know if you-” she sneezed again. “-if you knew where my calculus-” she sneezed twice in a row. “-my calculus binder is.”

And then Danny remembered Jazz was allergic to cats.

“No, sorry.” He rushed to get her out before she noticed, and God  _ forbid  _ Phil run out from her hiding space before Jazz was gone. “Did you look in the lab? Maybe dad mistook it for his studies or something.” He ushered her back towards his door.

“No, I didn't-” sneeze- “but I will. Thanks.” She sneezed one final time, and Danny sighed in relief when she shut the door behind her.

He sat on his bed, falling back. He immediately regretted it when the pain in his abdomen flared up, but that was easily fixed by a couple Advil.

He suddenly realized how tired he was. He had gotten maybe four or five hours of sleep total in the past three days, and healing was evidently taking up a lot of energy. But for the first time in a while, he actually didn't have any homework. So it wouldn't matter if he took a quick 20 minute nap, right?

\---

The next time he woke up, his brain felt stuffed with cotton, and he honestly couldn't tell whether or not he was currently on earth.

Picking up his phone- which was at 7%, he noticed- he found that it was 2:37 am.

Great. Just when he thought he'd have the chance to right his sleep schedule.

He tried rolling over and going back to sleep, but his mind was already up and running. Danny knew he wouldn't get to sleep for at least a few hours, if at all, so he opted to make the most out of his time.

He sat up and stretched, his back popping in multiple different places. He moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but a weight on his legs stopped him.

Of course. It was Phil, curled up in a tiny ball and sleeping soundly- at least until he sat up.  Now, she yawned, looking up at him curiously. Her hair was sticking up all over the place, and she still looked greasy…

He had nothing better to do, right?

So he gave her a bath in his bathroom sink filled with lukewarm water. She struggled, her meows were high pitched but quiet. His heart broke every time she looked at him with those wide, terrified eyes.

He washed her black fur with Dawn dish soap-  that was safe, right? That was the one with the commercials about washing baby ducks.

By the time he was done, the water was a murky brownish red, and dead fleas floated on the surface. It was disgusting. A quick Google yielded the information that, evidently, the red tint in the water was because of all the fleas that were killed by the dish soap. He struggled to think that so many fleas lived on a single kitten.

She looked tiny like this, with her fur plastered down from being wet. He could see her ribs and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him tear up just a little bit. Danny swaddled her in a towel and an extra soft blanket that he had. She attempted to worm her way out of the burrito multiple times, but each time Danny thwarted her attempts. He also retrieved more salami from the fridge.

By the time he was satisfied that she wouldn't freeze outside of the blanket, Phil had fallen asleep. That was okay- he curled up on his side and her little burrito rested against his chest, her fluffy, (now) soft fur barely poked over the top, and he couldn't stop himself from giving her a little kiss on the head.

Well, he knew right then that he probably couldn't give her up. He would cry in the shelter.

He couldn't keep her a secret forever. She couldn't very well eat salami for the rest of her life, and he would like to get her checked out by a vet.

He did feel bad about Jazz's allergy, though.

But he thought she would like Phil if she didn't have it. Hopefully they could work something out?

He sighed, and closed his eyes.

He was just drifting off, when a thought popped to the forefront of his mind.

_ Her name's Phil. Short for Philadelphia. My uncle lives there. _

He was such a fucking idiot.

 

 _Fin_.


End file.
